


Flesh and Blood

by Nebulad



Series: Vesegara [2]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: "Flesh and Blood" spoilers, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Jaal's Family, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 23:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10604562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: “Or, I kill you and expose the Resistance for the traitors they really are,” he spat in return. Just as Amani was about to call for Jaal again—please let me do something, please don’t make me watch this— Akksul did what no one present really thought he would.He fired.





	

Akksul was a large man, and his eyes pulled over Amani in such a calculating way that she shivered. He wasn’t afraid of her, but still studied her: a spark of the scholar that Jaal had told her he used to be. He had no _desire_ to learn her motivations, her origins, nor her reason for following Jaal to the Forge. He simply wanted her to go away and take her species with her. She understood the root of that desire— why allow more aliens bearing gifts into the Angara’s lives when the last time and led to the ruination of their culture?

It was a founded viewpoint, but it complicated her role.

 _She_ knew that the Milky Way aliens hadn’t come to hurt anyone. She deferred to the Angara on every decision that involved them even marginally— Earth had been such a spectacular fuck up that she would _work_ to avoid in as many ways as possible. Unfortunately, the fact that they had come here at all was already an act that they couldn’t take back. Akksul saw it as such, with no room for amends to be made.

Jaal took a softer view of it, no doubt driven by a similar motivation. Akksul saw more alien invaders to smash the nail in the coffin of the Angara— come to finish what the Kett had started, and then perhaps take out the Kett to ensure full domination. Jaal was at the other end of the spectrum— the Resistance was _desperate_ for allies, and if a handful of aliens wanted to float in from the big wide beyond, then perfect. He’d threatened her life once, reminding her that he didn’t trust her and could kill her anytime he wanted— but deep down, Jaal _had_ to believe that she was really there to help, if for no other reason than to resist despair.

He was stronger than he gave himself credit for. Her stomach compressed violently, her father’s training the only thing that kept her hands from shaking on her gun, whereas he wasn’t afraid to confront Akksul. He did it on purpose, to draw the man’s eyes from Amani and Vetra, and it worked. Akksul was desperate to be heard, and moreso by his own people. If he could convince the Resistance Soldier now to abandon the aliens, then he won; Amani knew it would never happen, but Akksul had no other options.

Or, so she thought until he drew his pistol. Amani knew it from her brief studies in Anagaran tech— the Ushior, that had one shot per clip. It forced the wielder to be as accurate as possible, but if they landed the hit? Stars save whoever was on the receiving end. A direct hit would do enough damage to kill, and Akksul was at point blank range of one of the few men willing to give aliens a chance.

And a man who wanted Amani to teach him how to do yoga.

Who fell asleep on her while being introduced to the wonderful world of human soap operas.

Who made her an Angaran knife and taught her how to use it.

Who she couldn’t let die right now.

“Easy,” he urged softly, his hands rising.

“Jaal?” Was that her voice, so thin and high? So afraid?

“Let me handle this, Amani.” The worst part was that he sounded afraid too. A man he’d grown up with had turned a gun on him, and accused him of treason. As Jaal had told the assembled Roekar that Ryder had breathed life back into dead planets and saved the Moshae, Akksul grew more desperate. “The Moshae trusts Ryder,” Jaal said, still so steady with a gun in his face. “You’ve become a danger to your own people, Akksul. Walk away.”

“Or, I kill you and expose the Resistance for the traitors they really are,” he spat in return. Just as Amani was about to call for Jaal again— _please let me do something, please don’t make me watch this—_ Akksul did what no one present really thought he would.

He fired.

The shot veered left and Jaal snapped his head to the side. A spray of blood fanned out into the air— head wounds always bled the most— and Jaal tried to muffle his cry of pain. Ryder did nothing to tamp down on her panic, even going to far as to raise her gun because if Akksul thought for a _moment_ that she was not willing to blast her way out of his trap to get medical help for the wound—

The fucking _wound—_

Was it deep?

Was he all right?

The blood, the _goddamn_ blood, she had to stop the blood—

“Amani.” She snapped back into the moment, realising that he gun was prepped and ready to fire with her finger on the trigger, albeit… not steadily. Jaal’s hand was on her shaking arm and he wordlessly urged her to lower her weapon— and she did. A blue trickle slid down his cheek and neck, but it was… shallow. It was still a bullet wound, but… Stars, she was trembling all over. Jaal reached out for her, but she waved him off— he had to finish things with the Roekar, for better or worse.

In that regard, many things were happening at once. Jaal was still calm, but Amani certainly wasn’t. On top of the trembling, there was an entirely unbecoming flood of tears that was welling up and being unsuccessfully swallowed back down, which was noted by everyone present. Vetra stepped up beside her and let her walk away and take a breath, keeping her gun leveled at Akksul calmly. The emotional response seemed to speak to the Roekar, who saw none of the same compassion in their leader— certainly they didn’t want him to give the turian a hug or anything, but he had fired on one of _theirs_ , and someone beloved and well-known in the Resistance.

“The aliens are not the monsters here,” Jaal said. He reached out for Akksul, but was shoved away.

“I _love_ my people,” he snapped rawly. Amani believed it. She wished there was some way she could give him the leverage over humans that he wanted to feel safe, without endangering a station full of civilians. She wished she could hate him less for pulling a gun on Jaal, because she could see the reasoning behind it but not _why._ The Roekar weren’t supposed to attack Angara. Pull the damn gun on _her,_ not someone who was trying to _help._

She felt a hand on her back as she worked her way through breathing exercises. She looked up and— Baranjj was gesturing her back towards the group. “I’m sorry,” she offered, trying to get a hold of herself. She’d thought her nerves were steelier than this, but… in finding out that they weren’t…

It was satisfying, in a way. Alec would have wanted her to be calm and unaffected and she… frequently was. She made decisions quickly, not because she was decisive but because her father wouldn’t abide hesitation. Knowing that she was breakable, that she would occasionally have to depend on the support of a team, was a relief so immense that she almost started crying again. Instead, she allowed Baranjj to lead her past Akksul, to where Teviint stood next to her older brother looking hollow. Vetra had lowered her gun once the Roekar dispersed.

“Are you all right?” she asked, reaching out tentatively to let her hand just… hover over his still-bleeding face. He took her hand and pressed it against his chest in a gesture that made Teviint avert her eyes guiltily.

“I’ll be fine. And you three—” he turned to Teviint and Baranjj, speaking as if Lathoul was standing there instead of waiting at the entrance, also injured, “—are going _home.”_

“Yes Jaal,” they responded in unison, quietly.

. . . . .

Amani was silent on the shuttle ride back to the research centre, to avoid making Jaal’s siblings and Vetra uncomfortable. She had something to say, but she couldn’t quite parse what it was. _I was scared, I don’t want to lose you, for a second I was going to start a fucking war to avenge you—_ It all seemed too much and too little at the same time. The shaking had abated and she had a better handle on her tears, at least.

Teviint, Baranjj, and Lathoul all exited the shuttle directly into the arms of their mothers— Jaal pulled Amani away while Vetra made a beeline for the Texan merchant. “We should get you to Lexi,” she said, trying to be stern. Blood had crusted over and around the wound that he barely seemed to notice.

“I have something to say, first.” Her stomach dropped.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted automatically. Breaking down had given her no small measure of comfort, but it occurred to her suddenly that perhaps it’d been… inconvenient for Jaal.

“Don’t be. I wanted to thank you for trusting me— shooting Akksul would have made the Roekar stronger.” He seemed distracted as he spoke, staring out over Havarl as if he expected Akksul to have followed them.

“He _shot_ you.” There was venom in her voice that she hadn’t expected, but he turned to look at her with such… certainty.

“I’m _glad_ he did. It showed how far he’d fallen.” Amani clicked her teeth together because _yes,_ that’d happened. That had certainly occurred at some point after _Akksul tried to shoot Jaal in the face._ “You were afraid.” He certainly hadn’t had to reach far for _that_ observation.

“He missed because he chickened out last second,” she snapped.

“Chickened…?”

“He missed _on purpose_ at the last second, Jaal. You were one moral grey area away from getting your head blown off.” It was like it’d happened slow motion, even though things had progressed uncomfortably quick after she realised that Akksul had actually fired.

“He _did_ miss, though,” he pointed out.

“ _Barely._ Your face still got torn open.” God, the damn _tears_ were coming back. She shoved off her gauntlets and let them drop to the ground, trying to wipe at her eyes before she could _really_ get going.

Jaal reached out for her, his fingertips brushing the back of her neck. Goosebumps prickled against her skin and she looked up, trying to seem less surprised when he pulled her over to press his forehead against hers. It was… _stupidly_ comforting. “It will heal,” he assured her, his voice dropping until it only existed between them. “All scars do.”

His thumb brushed against her cheekbone and she once again… struggled to decide what to say. What was enough? What was too much? “Let’s just have a better plan than _let Jaal get shot in the face_ next time, okay?” She pressed her hand against the one he had on her face, deciding to avoid irritating his blessedly mild wound. He laughed, softly, but was interrupted before he got to respond.

“Jaal, quit flirting with the human and come say goodbye to your mothers!” Lathoul seemed to be in much higher spirits than before, what with his bullet wound having been taken care of. Even Teviint looked less haunted.

Jaal muttered something under his breath that wasn’t in the translation archive, putting his hand on her back and gesturing forward. Amani picked up her gauntlets and followed, hoping that adrenaline would carry her through this before letting her crash. Distantly she was aware that she’d overextended her already limited biotic ability, which had done nothing for her acceptable stress levels during combat. A nap was in short order, but first…

“Evfra _said_ you made friends among the aliens,” one of his mothers laughed, slamming him on the back. She wondered how Angara blush, but found that she quickly became the centre of attention. “She’s very small, Jaal.”

“All humans are around that size,” he argued, at least _sounding_ embarrassed.

“She has very pretty… oh— on your head, dear, what is that called again?”

“Hair,” she offered with a smile.

“That’s it, hair. Yours is very nice— are you bringing her to meet Sahuna, Jaal?”

“If time allows— I’m sorry, Amani, I should ask first.” She looked up at him and he was practically glowing. She couldn’t tell if it was the embarrassment or just her being ridiculous.

“That sounds nice,” she offered, fiddling subconsciously with her gauntlet. He grinned, and stopped short of taking her hand again— good, but frustrating. She wanted him to do it at the same time she could literally not think of anything that would embarrass her more.

“Sahuna will ask worse questions than what _hair_ is,” said the mother closest to Teviint. Jaal’s smile dropped and he looked at his mother in something akin to panic. Amani couldn’t help herself— she laughed again, pressing her hands over her mouth (and narrowly avoiding slamming her nose into her brain with her own gauntlets). Jaal’s attention was drawn back to her, though his returning smile was wane.

“Unfortunately that was not a joke. I think I need to learn a few more things about humans before you meet my true mother.”

**Author's Note:**

> [My writing blog is here](http://nebulaad.tumblr.com) and I think I'm getting a better handle. I think that, but also most of what he says in this one is based on game dialogue sooo..... who knows, tbh.


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